


Rain

by vforvesta



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 06:42:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9536429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vforvesta/pseuds/vforvesta
Summary: This story's for Sean, who gave me the prompt for this: the song Rain by Motohiro Hata featured in the beautiful short film Garden of Words. This forms the basis for this work, along with a poem my partner wrote for me which remains one of my favourite poems ever.





	

They say it's a blessing to fall in love with your best friend.  
  
They neglect to add that it has to be reciprocal, or it becomes an absolute curse. It sucks, and then you never want to feel this way again. Falling in love loses whatever fairytale touch it had, and becomes a constant heartache.  
  
I wish things didn't have to be this way.  
  
My window is streaked with a smattering of raindrops, the light drizzle perfect for setting the melancholy Sunday afternoon. It’s ideal for sleeping in, and I do, the fan on medium power coupled with the weather enough to keep me cool even under covers, but I can’t sleep. Not a wink for my nap.  
  
The pillow is damp, and I’m not even sure why I’m sobbing with the heavens, the tears coming for no other reason than emotion. Some people let it out with words, some with action. For me, the simple action of remaining still, my heart shivering in my cage of a body and letting the waterworks flow - that suffices. It doesn’t matter if I’m happy or sad, although I’m almost perpetually the latter. Maybe it’s just about intensity?  
  
Dull aches bring hunger into my chest, sucked in as I think about him, as I think about her, my mind cluttered with all these useless thoughts that I can’t do anything with, all the while leaking out through my eyes, my stuffy nose, translating into rivers of tissue I’ve given up on throwing into the wastepaper basket, and that’s pretty much how this works.   
  
I know there’s no point in being bothered so much by a stupid boy - _my stupid boy_ \- but thought ceases to be rational when mixed in with such emotion. How do I cease being defined by him when he’s such a huge part of my past, present, and soon to be future? I’m just...  
  
The rain patters on, until it doesn’t, and even when the skies have cleared and water returns to the clouds, I don’t stop and just retreat further into my blanket, the sun too bright for my liking.  
  
He’s always too bright.

* * *

  
Tai glows on the track, curly auburn hair waving to the crowd as he blazes across his final stretch. He puts shame to racist stereotypes, _who says Japanese men can’t be athletic?,_ carrying our class once again to victory as he presents us a lead so generous that it’d be impossible for us to lose even if I was the last runner.  
  
He’s effortless, the transition of the baton from one hand to another like two conductors at their peak, and then she’s off. The grandstand roars as he takes a bow, and even for the next five seconds, their focus is still on him, even as our final champion in this relay brings home the last lap. He commandeers the energy like an orchestra at his fingertips, the cheers a symphony that feeds his soul. That’s just the way he is - a shining beacon, all smiles for the audience, that toothy grin I’d recognise anywhere.   
  
But I’m the only one who first looks at Terra through my thick rimmed glasses. Same consistent demeanour, the confidence without arrogance. She knows what she can do, takes charge, and boy does she deliver. Step after step, pace never laxing, she crosses the finish line with both perfectly toned, tanned arms in the air.  
  
Her caramel coffee skin glistens in the sun, a complexion beloved and nourished by its rays. It’s as though she was born to be a child of cloudless skies, nurtured like a seedling growing strong and healthy, sturdy stalk upright towards the heavens. That’s the way she carries herself, her posture, her gestures. All exuding dependable grace - yes, that’s the phrase.  
  
Terra takes off her sweaty, immaculately coiffed bun and lets her shoulder length hair fall free, and now all eyes are on her. Our class ripples into an applause, and some of the more extroverted members are clambering down the aisle, ready to congratulate her. Me? I stay where I am, content with observing this bittersweet victory from afar.  
  
I just can’t bring myself to hate her. Which I know is petty, and ridiculous, but I just wish things were more black and white. Then maybe I won’t be so confused, because I want to be happy for Tai, for her, but then what about me? What do I deserve?  
  
Tai gets to her first, and the two carry out their standard victory routine. A fist bump into a handshake into a hug, and the dynamic duo holds each others' hands up in front of the entire school - never mind the other two members of the 4x400 meter interclass relay - and they cheer on this avid display of ability, talent and chemistry. Of course they would win, it was never in doubt.  
  
Then Tai’s eyes roams the crowd, searching for someone before landing on me, and I know he’s seen me, and he knows that I know, and he flashes me that dazzling smile, the world’s worst kept secret, and gives me a goofy thumbs up. I don’t know how to react, and it’s lucky that I don’t blush easily if not I would be a constant shade of red, a tomato bursting at the seams, and I do my best to keep my cheeks deflated, returning a humble - _shy_ \- thumbs up, and then Tai’s off. Ready to do his victory laps and celebrations - he’s already far, far away.  
  
I can’t even see him anymore, the athletes and the fangirls and the teachers are all swarming him, and all that’s left at the grandstand is Terra. For a moment, our eyes lock, and I don’t know what to convey. Congratulations? Jealousy? Gratitude? Bitterness?  
  
But she gives me this pleasant smile - the kind she shows everyone, the kind that makes your insides melt like a pat on the back, coupled with a warm, gooey cup of hot chocolate on a cold rainy day, and all I can do is return the favour.  
  
The hardest, yet most natural smile that finds its way to my lips.

* * *

  
The both of them are the couple you ship, the one the whole cohort ships, yet they deny it themselves. _We’re just friends_ , or _you know it’s not like that_ , and my conflicted feelings are torn between jubilation and depression, because how would you know, how would they even know?  
  
But it’s obvious that they complement each other. Similar personalities, interests, abilities - a match made in heaven. He and I on the other hand, are like cousins unrelated by blood. All we have is history tying us together, and nothing else.  
  
Either way, I don’t participate in the gossip. I’ve never been one for drama, even those I have a vested interest in.  
  
“That’s why I like you, Hui Yun,” Tai would say, aloof and oblivious. “You never really tease the both of us.”  
  
And I’ll respond with a thoughtful, pained smile, my damning silence scraping against my chest.  
  
I replay such scenes in my mind, the line between reality and imagination blurry, a keen enough distraction even with Tai by my side as we study at the benches next to the figure-8 pond at the heart of the school’s garden. As we undoubtedly drift apart, I wonder whether I prefer Tai in the flesh, or the one in my mind, wrapped in sugary cotton and preserved as a sweet, sweet memory.  
  
“Hey, can I sit with you guys?”  
  
The voice jolts me from my mind, and it’s Terra, _of course it’s Terra_ , and Tai’s already making room for her, placing our school bags onto the grass patch behind us. I’m too tired to object, never mind that I’ve nagged him a thousand times before that the soil produces visible, hard to remove stains on my white knapsack.  
  
I keep my silence throughout, pretending to be engrossed in the text before me, scanning the same passage over and over again, underlining words that have already been highlighted.  
  
Fifteen minutes feels like an eternity, but Tai’s phone rings and he’s off again, slinging his bag and saying that he has an important last minute appointment with his teacher mentor, something about a scholarship, and it’s just Terra and I, awkwardly seated with a Tai shaped gap between us.  
  
“Hey, penny for your thoughts?”  
  
I look up, and unlike Tai, I can meet her gaze. Whereas the boy has become so stunningly bright it hurts to even take a peek, Terra is mellow, mild, and enthralling. Hair neatly parted to one side and ending in a ponytail hitched at just the right height to bob, she’s just… nice to look at. I catch myself staring too much, shake my head, and proceed to continue reading my notes.  
  
“You’ve been eyeing the same page since I got here,” Terra quips, concern clear in her tone. “You sure you’re okay? I understand if you’re not comfortable telling me but…”  
  
Her words trail off, and I see this soul so sensitive, one who genuinely cares and means well, and I hate myself even more. For being so spiteful, inconsequential, for not having large enough a heart, and the paper’s already crinkling beneath my fingers. I need to stop. To stop, and breathe.  
  
Breathe.  
  
More insufferable minutes pass, and Terra drops the subject, reverting back to her notes, and with a glance, she _is_ studying, getting work done unlike me, but even then, she steals glances back at me from time to time, making sure that I’m okay, and I pretend that I’m staring beyond her, which is a shitty excuse for this nonsense.  
  
I don't know what to say or do. It seems that anything would lead to insufferable amounts of embarrassment, every outcome a negative one, including just sitting here in silence. How long more do I have to stay before she'll just leave? Am I ever going to break this silence, and with what? What am I going to say? Oh no oh no oh no...  
  
"You like him, don't you?"  
  
I've never spluttered or choked so violently, wrenched out of my inner world of convoluted thoughts and brought out to face reality like that. I don’t have to answer, my response was telling enough.  
  
Instead, I attempt to turn the question to my advantage.  
  
“Well, do you?"  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
There’s a thoughtful silence, no outright rejection nor affirmation. Terra smiles as though there’s a chestnut cradled on her lips, sweet and slightly parted, wanting to say something but waiting for the words to compose themselves. Eventually she breathes out audibly - once, twice - before responding.  
  
“I’ll be frank with you, Hui Yun.  _I don’t know_.”  
  
I don’t know if I’m relieved at those three words. They extend possibility yet shut off certainty, and it’s like I deserve to hear a definite _yes_ , yet somehow the future is still open wide, unwritten.  
  
“He’s a great guy and all, and it’s not like I’ve never entertained the possibility.” Terra shrugs, twiddling her thumbs, her hair falling over them like string over a spindle. “But honestly? I still don’t know. Because I value consistency and stability, and with all this energy Tai has, I don’t know how long he can keep it up.”  
  
Coming from her, that’s a wow.   
  
“Well, if it means anything,” I splutter, unsure about my words. “I think you’re both perfect for each other. You’re the only one who can keep up with him.”  
  
“Is that so?”  
  
Terra stretches herself and leans forward, arms and chin resting on the tabletop, tapping it with both palms as she looks on ahead. Then she tilts her head towards me, lips pressed against the inside of her bicep and I can see her grin with her eyes, the way they lift and tug towards the sides.  
  
“Maybe I don’t want to keep up with him,” she replies. “I just wish he’d slow down. And I think you’re the only one who can make him do that.”  
  
I blink. Once. Twice. Maybe five times. I can’t discern the meaning of what she’s saying.  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Don’t dwell on it,” Terra tells me, and she thumbs the pages of the book in front of me till they match with hers, then she uncaps her highlighter with her mouth. “Now, let’s work, shall we?”  
  
She takes my mind off the issue like a master enchanter, two snaps to the side, diverting my attention, then bringing out the definition of ribosomes until I’m confused enough that I’m dragged into her pace, slow and steady. Tai doesn’t return, and we spend the next hour and a half revising our notes. It’s not until I reach home when I remember her statement, but then I remember it’s _her_ statement, not that the statement was about Tai and I.  
  
The memory of the event gets muddled over time, but one thing always remains. And it’s that this will always be the starting point for us, the moment Terra and I became reluctant yet honest friends, tied by the red string of fate. Two girls basking in the shade, away from the light of the glaring sun.

* * *

  
_“He loves me,_  
  
_He loves me not._  
  
_He loves her,_  
  
_He loves her not._  
  
_She loves him,_  
  
_She loves him not._  
  
_I love him,_  
  
_I…”_

* * *

  
The days and months in the schooling year fade into one another, and amidst all the chaos I still seem to be able to make room for self loathing and insecurities. I prefer rainy days to sunny ones, the unpleasant heat drawing me to seek shelter, the umbrella of shadow protecting me even as the others continue to bask in the light.  
  
PE classes are where the divide is most apparent, a literal line cast upon the ground between those who put themselves out in the sun, and the ones who live in the background of shade, ever present but never noticed. I find myself staring at Terra more and more often, this girl I know so little about, a girl I’m aware I place on a pedestal borderlining idolisation, yet I can never seem to find anything wrong with her. She’s a goddess, daughter of Apollo and Aphrodite, Artemis and Hestia reincarnate, flawless and never even tripping up to bleed her beautiful golden ichor.  
  
November comes, and in my country, that’s the first resurgence of the monsoon. School’s off, which is a breather in more ways than one, but so comes the rain. The tickling drizzles and the torrential downpours. Everything seems to be bleached blue, a tint of freshness that comes with renewal.  
  
The schooling days leave, and the holidays arrive. Classmates take the last opportunity they have to enjoy overseas, a last respite before the crunch next year. Tai's gone with his family to Boracay, a haven of sand, salt and sun. Like my island country from an earlier time.  
  
I myself enjoy the patter of drizzle on my shoulders, a sprinkling massage whenever I go out for a walk - the only time I ever leave the house. My parents insist on my carrying an umbrella, but it’s a formality - I sneak back home dripping, and then mop up the trail of evidence I leave behind.  
  
Living in the east side of my country has its perks - scenic parks, the nation’s most popular bicycle path hugging the southeastern coast. Despite seeing them every day, I myself am not one for cycling. Never learned it. But walking’s just as enjoyable, the repetitive motions easing into my daily routine.  
  
It’s the last Friday morning of November when I’m in the park, a grey sun peeking through the leaves. Clouds swirl like foam in a cup of coffee, and they remind me of the warm almond latte I treat myself at Starbucks when I need a pick me up. Today isn’t such a day, but the bittersweet taste leaves a phantom touch on my tastebuds.  
  
As certain as day and night, the rain gathers, and it’s neither a drizzle nor a downpour. Somewhere in between, the kind that doesn’t soak you down, yet you wouldn’t leave the house without an umbrella.  
  
I have my umbrella tucked in the hem of my waistband, the curve of the handle sticking out as I walk from pavilion to pavilion, snaking through covered walkways and splashing through puddles in my flip flops.   
  
People are sparse in this weather, so it particularly stands out when there's a lone cyclist braving the rain, pedaling down the lane. Even in the haze of rain, I can make out the silhouette - a teenage girl my age, in a tank baring her tanned arms, messy fringe stuck to her forehead. Anticipation finds its way and trips up my heart.  
  
When I squint, her identity confirms itself.  
  
_Terra._  
  
It had always slipped my mind. _Of course she lives in the vicinity_. Most people who go to our school do.  
  
Somehow, I find myself giving chase, my legs telling me that I miss her. My umbrella pops open like a parachute, dragging the wind as I sprint towards her bicycle, shouting.  
  
“Terra! H...hey! Terra!"

The bicycle skids to a halt, and I see her head turning back, delight etched in her expressions.

"What are you doing out in the open?" I shout, fighting to be heard above the wind. By now I manage to catch up, sharing the umbrella with her. "Come, let's take shelter somewhere."

"Says you," she grins, giving me a once over. "You're wet."

I hold out my umbrella like a bouquet of flowers in protest. "Well, I have this!"

"If it's not helping it doesn't matter what you have."

Arguing isn't going to make us drier, so with my free hand I push against the small of her back, _I’ve never touched her back before_ , guiding her towards the nearest pavilion. There's nothing we can dry ourselves with, so Terra wrings her ponytail, squeezing whatever droplets she can. I swing around the umbrella like a toy sword, splattering water on the floor like the blood of my fallen enemies.

"So..." Terra asks when we've settled down. "You come here often?"

"Well... yeah I guess?" I find myself seated next to her, her bicycle leaning against a pavilion pillar. "I enjoy taking walks, especially in weather like this."

Terra casts her eyes to the floor, kicking her legs. “Really? That’s nice.”

Her voice has a tinge of melancholy to them, and I have to wonder if the weather’s getting to her. It’s like when she’s out of her element, she becomes more vulnerable, more of a person.

“And you?”

My question doesn’t take her by surprise, quite the opposite in fact. Terra leans back now, her disheveled hair spread out against the headrest as she eases into a more relaxed position. “I didn’t plan on getting caught in the showers. Bad planning I suppose. Was supposed to run some errands early today since I saw the forecast, but well… procrastination is my Achilles’ heel  I guess.”

That’s a first. Finding out that well, Terra isn’t so perfect. She's just like the rest of us.

She continues looking at the ceiling, almost in a trance. "I might not look like it… but I don’t particularly like the rain.”

“That’s a pity,” I tell her. “I love the rain.”

“I know.”

Terra grins, a lopsided smile as she opens just one eye, like she’s channeling her inner Tai, looking all beguiling, _you’re not supposed to look like that_. I swallow, hard, and I’m not quite sure why.

“Tell me what you like about the rain, Hui Yun,” she asks, _she’s said my name_. “Then maybe I can learn to like it too.”

“Um…” I start, shifting my feet. “It makes amazing weather for sleeping, for one. But it’s also great for going out. It’s like bathing out in the open, but no one’s going to judge you or anything.” 

Terra's facing me now, and every bit of body language says she's paying her fullest attention. 

"It's just... the little details you know? The way rain makes clothes cling to your body, like a blanket of safety. The way rain tastes after being filtered through the clouds and trees… a strange earthy nectar that trickles down your chin." 

"You sure have a way with words, huh,” Terra comments, but she watches me so intently, it’s as though I’m given express permission to continue on.  
  
"And then there's the being alone.”  
  
I get up, just to confirm that my surroundings play to my point - they do. "Few people come out in the rain, like today right?” I gesture towards the empty park. "It allows me to be outside without the crowds, enjoying nature at its most untouched, allowing for pensive reflection and…”

Oh no, I’m babbling. A bad habit of mine I suppose, running my mouth and then realising I can’t follow up, _why can’t you follow up_ , and so I just trail off, allowing the silence to hopefully speak for me. My back still faces her, so I can’t read her reaction, but I don’t need to. I don’t think I need to.

"It's just great, you know?”

The musical pitter patter graces my statement, and I allow myself to look back at Terra. She’s leaning forward, almost at the edge of her seat, gazing at me like she’s just made the loveliest sigh. I thought I was captivated looking at her once, but I can tell that somehow, she’s enthralled by _me_.

"I could listen to you for hours. You're a totally different person when you talk about what you love."

"Really?” I force a laugh, shrugging. "I hadn't noticed."

"I have. I've noticed. I've noticed for a while now."

Terra pats the seat next to her, gesturing for me to sit down again. “It’s nothing that special,” I tell her. “Lots of people get excited over stuff they like.”

“It’s different for you,” Terra insists. “You’re not excited per-se, but it’s like the words find their way to you, and they pour themselves out like… like rain falling.” Terra’s cheeks lift in delight at finding the right metaphor. “And I get to see this other side of you, a kind of… consistent passion beneath your melancholy. And it’s… it’s nice."

I tilt my head, confused. “Really?” Just my rambling, nothing more-

“You tend to forget yourself, Hui Yun.” She says it so matter-of-factly, saying my name again causing my breath to skip. “So let others remember you, alright?"

The way she puts it… it’s not like I haven’t been told before to open up to others, _you have friends too you know, there are people who care for you,_ but this is a fresh way of putting things into perspective. I can almost breathe again.

“Er… thanks,” I manage to chuckle. “Not something I’m used to …”

Terra puts her arm around me, a hug of sorts. “Hey, remember what I said about consistency and stability?"

"Yeah…” I have a vague recollection once upon a time.

“These are the things that I honour, and well… I’m fine being the one to remember you, if you’ll let me,” she grins. “I’ll remember yourself for you, every day, if it helps. And it doesn’t just have to be me, but if present company doesn’t seem adequate, just know I’ll have your back, kay?"

I lean into her, resting my head on her shoulder. “Mm alright. That sounds good."

We continue this way, talking for a few more minutes about stuff in general. I can tell that Terra’s worried about me, somewhat, but that she’s not looking to fix me or anything. It’s more like… she cares, and she knows that well, people have their problems. And she’s willing to step up and help, or at least offer help without pushing it onto me and that’s just… really considerate?

But it’s a two-way thing, these relationships, and she opens up herself. Or more like, I let herself open up to me. Here, she’s more down to earth than ever, and I manage to see the silly side of her, her funny sides, and she’s no longer untouchable. That kind of bonding normally isn’t possible, but we’re stuck in a pavilion waiting for the rain to pass - because sharing an umbrella just isn’t going to cut it - so we have all the time in the world.

And given the space we have, I find in me the courage to ask personal questions I couldn’t have before.

“Hey, so. What don’t you like about the rain?”

“You know, after hearing you talk about it,” Terra ponders. “Maybe I don’t not like the rain anymore."

I kick off my sandals, turning towards her and sitting crossed legged. "Really? Because of what I’ve said?

“Sure,” Terra laughs, and it’s such an unguarded, intimate laugh that I’m mesmerised by it. “I think you’ve helped me fall in love with rain, Hui Yun. When I look at things now… they’re much better."

"Just like that?"

“Yeah,” she pauses, before turning around to face me - not just her head, but her entire upper body. She places her hands on the bench, and she looks like a mermaid spying on a sailor from the rocks.

"Just like that."

Those three words seem to change everything, except I’m exaggerating of course, hyperbole never a strong suit of mine. But its close to everything - breath becoming air, the wind and rain responding to become a chilly chorus. The dynamics between us shift, like something important’s about to happen, a yawning gap within me anxiously waiting to be filled, the tension palpable on the tongue.

Terra leans closer to make her point, an initial gesture of trust. I don’t move back, the response accepting of that trust - l _et others remember you, let others take care of you_ \- and all the while we’re just looking at each other, nervous and anticipating what’s coming next.

It’s Terra again who makes the next move, bolder, almost coy, her eyes never leaving mine even as she moves in more, her head positioned slightly lower than mine and angled upwards to face me. Her right hand finds its way to mine, and she’s so close now that her nose seems to hover around my lips like a hummingbird just before taking nectar from a flower.

Her eyes are intense, the most intense I’ve seen them. But I don’t want to look away, I don’t want this moment to end, and my chest seems to tighten and her hands are so soft and I-

“May I?”

.

.

.

Her question’s the answer to a puzzle I’ve been piecing together for the past year.

I don’t respond, I can’t respond. All I can do is to close my eyes, tighten my grip on her hand, lean in just a fraction more such that my lips brush against her nose.

Her lips reply without saying a word. And I submit to the sweet embrace of her kiss, the fluttering in my chest finding its resolution.

There is no lightning, no thunderous animal roaring in my chest, nor any bright euphoria or epiphany. The kiss is more like a carpet of mellow sensations, an accumulation of events leading to this realisation that feels like _mm yeah, that sounds about right._

It _feels_ about right... no. Not that neutral, not that flippant.

It feels _nice._

When we part, it’s almost like it never happened. There’s embarrassment, because well _I’m not really a good kisser_ , the whole thing kinda foreign, like a dream but not really. My lips feel drier than before even when you expect it to be more moist or something, _I don’t know how this works_ , but I don’t regret it, no.

"Are you… are you okay with this?”

The question escapes me before Terra can say something, and I know she wants to because I probably look like I’m thinking really hard, and Terra would want to address that. But it’s nothing to be concerned about, I suppose, and I don’t want her to feel like she did something wrong.

"I don’t know. Are you?"

Turning the question back on me. But this one I can answer, and I do so with a tentative nod of my head, before deciding to be more certain, squeezing Terra’s hand.

“Yeah.”

She visibly relaxes, my affirmation a kind of release. It’s all so sudden and surreal, of course she would have doubts, never mind the repercussions and how to move forward. For now… it’s all about the present. The gift of ourselves we've allowed each other.

"You’re right about being alone,” Terra pipes up, a nervous grin escaping her. "At least no one’s looking.”

This time, I initiate the kiss, our fingers lacing in tandem with locked lips. There’s more to taste the second time, more decisiveness, more movement, _more_.

We don’t progress any further from here. There’s no need to.

I brush my lips with my thumb when we part, the contrasting sensations feeling uncanny. “You’re a pretty good kisser, you know.” 

Terra cocks a playful eyebrow. “Oh, and you speak from experience?”

I want to say no, but I bite back my tongue. “Well… kinda? But not much though, probably not more than-“

“You’ve kissed before?!” Terra is almost incredulous.

“Just this random boy I went out with for a month a few years ago. We made out only like twice… thrice? Tai wouldn’t shut up about it… maybe I guess he took the cue from there that I’d never be interested in him.”

“Oh well. Um.” Terra runs her fingers through her hair. "That just now, the first one? That was my first kiss.”

It was my turn. “Your what?!”

“Ha ha. Yeah kinda lame, I know, but-“

“But you were amazing! For a first timer, that is. You were totally in control, it looked like you knew what you were doing-“

“Really?” Terra’s voice seems to go up an octave, and I’ve never seen her this way before. "I was so scared I’d fudged it up, and I thought that you didn’t know anything so I had to be the one to carry things along if anything was going to happen and-!”

“It’s alright, it’s alright! You did great.”

“I just learnt from watching all those shows, you know?" 

“Mass media, our only form of education these days. Maybe I should turn to it so that I can improve…”

“Improve? How many more times do you intend to kiss me?”

“As many times as you’d want to.”

Each exchange in our banter made the other more daring, each cheesy comeback almost scandalous. But being able to converse like this with wild abandon, the whole flirting after the fact… it’s nice. We fall into a steady tempo to match each other, and it’s almost like we breathe at the same time, movements mirroring the other…

It doesn’t escape us, how delightfully cliche it all is. We explode in a spell of giggles, our bodies shaking against each other like waves in sync.

Our awkward laughter cradles us through the afternoon, an embellishment amongst the soothing percussion of rain. We spend a great deal of time just being with each other, talking, learning, _there’s just so much to learn, so much I want to know about her_ , and it’s like time could never slow down enough. Each second feels like another step into the unknown, but each step becomes clearer, more confident. 

The consequences don’t really set in until long after, _I have a girlfriend now, is she my girlfriend?,_  but even then I feel ready to persevere through them. I know that I’m still riding the high, that the illusion will wear off one day and the struggle will be that much stronger. But somehow, I feel that it’s going to be alright. When I see her, when I hear her, when I talk to her, when I feel her… it’s like I fit, like she fits, and that it’s just meant to be. I can’t see the future, but despite the certainty of torrential weather, I can’t help but feel that the coming days will be warm.  
  
I don’t know what this is, but if it’s love?

Then maybe falling in love isn’t so bad after all.

 

* * *

  
_“I love him,_  
_I love him not._  
  
_She loves me,_  
_And I love her.”_

* * *

  
They say it's a blessing to fall in love with your best friend. And at times like these, I have to agree.  
  
She not too bright, not a blazing ball of energy I have to hobble towards, finding ways to just barely keep up. She’s a pleasant, reliable monument to beauty and grace, a testament to love without boundaries.

Even now, I don’t really know how it happened. At what point did I realise that I was falling for her, that I was looking at her more than anyone else, that I was looking at her in ways that I wouldn’t look at anyone else? Maybe I’d blocked it out, because you’re not supposed to look at girls that way, and the shame bundled up in the whole package might’ve been too much for me, so in my defence I shut it out. I managed to convince my subconscious that I could’ve never loved her.  
  
Until I did.  
  
There are days I wake up from my nap, feeling a warm spot next to my left shoulder, and there she is, no longer an untouchable bronze statue but another girl, fragile and delicate and strong and feminine. And I could look for ages at the way her eyelids flutter as she dreams what I can only imagine to be phantasmagoric snapshots of a whimsical life, her eyelashes quivering like the wings of butterflies, and I ask myself. How can I ever deserve such a beautiful human being like her?  
  
But she loves me too, and reminds me to love myself. Even when I’m unable to, even when I forget, I let myself trust the one who puts her faith into me. I let her remember me.  
  
And Tai? Well, Tai’s alright. The goofy boy doesn’t seem to care, oblivious enough that it takes him weeks before he’s even had an inkling, and even then we had to spell it out for him. He’s unbothered by it, the same chill, unaware self, which works. He doesn’t comment when we hold hands, or bump each other’s shoulders on the bus, or giggle about girl things behind his back. And he acts as a cover for any unwanted gazes, a beneficial third wheel against the prejudiced.  
  
It’s bliss, really.  
  
Another year comes and goes, and suddenly we’re eighteen. Terra’s my pillar, and I’m her muse, or so she claims, and through our final exams we support each other, dragging ourselves through the mud, kicking and screaming and crying, and I can’t imagine having conquered it without her.  
  
It’s December. It’s two weeks after our first anniversary, which went on without occasion - exams, remember? But we’ve made it, and she’s here by my side.  
  
We spend days and evenings wherever, everywhere, but we will always favour the park. I’d wake up with a spring in my step at six in the morning, throw on a dry-fit singlet with some comfortable shorts before I leave the house with an umbrella. Sometimes the grey drizzle comes, sometimes it doesn’t, but there’s always the minty aftertaste of morning dew evaporating from the underside of a leaf. What a refreshing way to start a day.  
  
Terra teaches me how to cycle like a surrogate father, patient and caring and I can always trust her to catch me, and I never have to worry about falling. I’ll rent a bike even though we split the price, and her firm hands will guide the rim of my seat, and I’ll keep pedalling until her hands are no longer there, and I’m on my own, but she’s never far behind. My wheels wobble, but I regain control, and even still her hands will suddenly be there, and it’s the most reliable security I’ve ever experienced.  
  
We cycle under the dim sunlight filtered through silver clouds, along golden, sandy paths. There’s laughter and giggles as we get our hearts racing and the blood pumping, movement a mere excuse for the exhilaration of just being with each other. Not every moment has to be an adventure, but when it is - what a time we have! Even for just thirty minutes, there’s so much that can be done, so much to explore down our stretch that brings our neighbourhood to the heart of the city. If we go on long enough, we can track the distinct changes as soil gives way to concrete, as trees give way to buildings.  
  
And when we rest, we rest with mats and blankets draped between us and the grass, sheltered within the shade of leaves but if we stretch out our legs, our toes can catch some sun. We can stay this way for hours, talking with strawberry chunks between our teeth, clutching diaries with crinkled pages,  penning words smudged by damp fingers or sketching low hanging willows that lean towards the edge of a pond.  
  
Terra’s the artist, her grounded strokes bringing life to the landscape, sceneries rooted in realism brought to life under her pencils and markers, each page a delicately curated terrarium. And I’ve taken to poetry, the horror of Literature exams gone past, allowing myself to enjoy the subject without the undue stress of having to score.  
  
It’s liberating. The words flow out of me without hesitation, as certain as water out of a tipped jar, gravity drawing my droplets of consciousness to earth. Or, it’s like I’m surrounded by a garden of words - a kind of metaphorical technique I’ve learned from observing Terra - and I tend to my plants, caring for them, cultivating them until the flowers are ready to form a bouquet. Words have power and meaning, and bringing them together takes hard work, even when on the surface it seems like magic.

I don’t have to pay attention to plot, or characters, or structure, since I’m dealing with free form, and that allows me to bring out the quantity that will precede quality, but who’s counting anyway? As for content, you know what they say about poems - it’s either a confessional, or about love, or in many cases, both.   
  
Pretentious? Maybe, quite possibly. But art somehow has a way for being able to bring into existence our feelings, expressions of the abstract manifest in reality. And if the beauty of our relationship seems cheesy or convoluted, then so be it.  
  
Because I know this to be true. Because I know that this wonderful girl - my past, my present, my future - _my wonderful girl,_ I know that she’ll be here. Even if the sun doesn’t rise tomorrow, she’ll be here.

And maybe, that’s all I ever need.

 

* * *

  
_Dear love of mine, dear_  
_tender heart, and sweet words I_  
_cannot weave into sentences_  
_that pass through your lips._  
  
_You have overcome me, slender_  
_Aphrodite, with a longing full._  
_A lull, an ache over simple_  
_pleasures; swell and fall like the ocean._  
  
_I see you across the horizon, my_  
_girl, my beauty and grace, my_  
_mercy. And me yours, though your_  
_path floats away from mine._  
  
_Journey braves the weather, and we_  
_companions that travel together, though the_  
_roads fork and melt into each other._  
_We walk, and we will cross_  
  
_Like our intertwined fingers, curled in_  
_my lap as I know that of me you are_  
_a part, such that distance may never do us_  
_apart. Even as we grow and wither,_  
  
_Like twin roses on separate stalks,_  
_but stemming from the same vase, an_  
_arrangement in sickness and in health,_  
_a partner for life and beyond._  
  
_Time and space transcends but I will_  
_miss you - I will miss you_  
_dearly, like the clouds miss the earth_  
_until it begins to rain._

**Author's Note:**

> This story's for Sean, who gave me the prompt for this: the song Rain by Motohiro Hata featured in the beautiful short film Garden of Words. This forms the basis for this work, along with a poem my partner wrote for me which remains one of my favourite poems ever.


End file.
